


Exile

by caketoss



Category: StarCraft
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Gang Rape, M/M, NSFW, Rape, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:09:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6069952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caketoss/pseuds/caketoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a politically motivated attack aimed at his father, the course of Kiranis’s life is forever altered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I never meant to actually write this out as it is highly squicky even for me. But it’s such a pivotal point in Kiranis’s story that I was compelled to do the thing and get it out there.

The pounding in his head was deafening, consuming. And the screams - he couldn’t make them stop; and every effort to push them away only amplified the tortured sounds. They were so raw, so recent that at times he couldn’t tell if they were imagined or if it was happening all over again. A vile shudder slid down his spine and he felt his muscles heaving beyond his control; it was too close, too real - he knew the screams were his own, and they were with him to stay.

Drenched in sweat and choking back the sobs that threatened to break free, Kiranis clawed his way up the back of the seat from his place on the floor of his vessel. It was time to move. Although he had disabled the tracking array in the _Virathion_ , he couldn’t be too careful - he couldn’t allow anyone to find him like this. Kiranis settled himself gingerly into the seat and gazed at his reflection in the window encasing the cockpit. He could practically see the broken and crazed aura wafting off his body. He noted with a swell of revulsion that the bruises around his throat were still vivid, deep purple marks in the shape of fingers… And scratches along his face and neck, still caked with dried blood. The swelling in his face had mostly subsided, and he supposed he was lucky - the word crossed his mind with a snort - that nothing had been broken. He could heal on his own, in his own time, far away from the world he begrudgingly occupied.

Biting back a fresh wave of sickness that threatened to tear his consciousness in two, Kiranis took hold of the crystal at the helm of the cockpit, bringing the Phoenix’s inertial drive thrumming back to life. Briefly glancing over the celestial HUD and choosing his coordinates, Kiranis deftly activated the ship’s warp drive and patiently waited for his destination to lock itself in place. While the warp jump sequence initiated, Kiranis allowed himself to sink back in his seat, sparking a fresh wave of pain as the pressure of his bodyweight aggravated the lacerations still smarting on his back. He could feel the blood there too; dried and pulling at his punished flesh.

Kiranis heard the familiar increase in frequency emitted by the ship that signaled that the warp drive had finished activating and was now preparing to jump. He strapped himself into his seat, closing his eyes against the vacuum-like sensation of warp travel that threatened to turned him inside out. Within moments, his vision had gone dark.

***

The _Virathion_ was a special Phoenix, custom-built with speed and weapons enhancements suited to only the most skillful pilots. And Kiranis had been chosen to fly the upgraded prototype - an honor he took very seriously. After each flight, Kiranis would spend as much time as was necessary, sometimes hours, in the hangar with his ship, meticulously examining each system, moving part and panel to ensure they remained in pristine working order. It was a labor of love that he adored almost as much as flying, and he was skilled in aircraft repair and maintenance nearly to the degree he was in piloting itself.

The hangar was seldom occupied outside of training and scheduled maintenance sessions, which meant that more often than not, Kiranis had the privilege of performing maintenance on the _Virathion_ in peaceful solitude. The hangar was guarded by an Observer, which had peculiarly been removed that day for maintenance with no replacement issued, as was standard protocol. But the thought hadn’t so much as bothered Kiranis - as a military installation, the hangar wasn’t exactly a place that tended to attract trouble.

Thus, Kiranis had no concerns as he sat on the floor beneath his beautiful ship, carefully examining the joints of her landing gear. He was absorbed completely by the work others might consider mundane, but his fascination with the technology was unquenchable. Even seemingly simple or unimportant parts, such as the precisely tuned swivel that attached the pointed feet of the landing gear of a Phoenix to its tapered and sweeping legs, captivated him each time he examined them.

Enraptured as he ever was with the glorious technology before him, Kiranis failed to notice the strange shimmer in the air speeding towards him until it was too late.

Kiranis had looked up only a split second before he was caught by the throat by an invisible force that sent him sprawling backwards across the floor. Even as he skidded to a halt, the pressure on his throat did not relent, and he was held pinned to the ground by what had now materialized into the form of a large Nerazim male. Another had followed the first through the shadows, leaping after them and throwing his weight bodily on top of Kiranis. Bewildered and suddenly very afraid, Kiranis wildly tried to probe the minds of the two Nerazim that bore down upon him, scouring for any sign of what was happening and why they had come to the hangar. These were two Nerazim that Kiranis did not recognize, neither from among his fellow pilots nor the usual maintenance crew that periodically cared for the ships held in the hangar. What was more disturbing to Kiranis was that he could pick up nothing at all from these two Nerazim - not one thought, not one name, not one inkling of purpose or emotion providing so much as a clue to their intentions.

Overwhelmed by trepidation, Kiranis attempted to convey his distress into the Khala, only to find the pressure on his throat cut him off from the sacred connection almost entirely. His nerves were being choked and compressed, causing the edges of his mind to blur and his connection with the Khala to be muted. Now thrashing in desperation against his attackers, Kiranis was caught off-guard as his head was slammed forcefully to the side, his vision exploding into stars. Though dazed by the blow, he now keenly felt the claws of the second Nerazim haphazardly digging into the flesh of his legs. With horror, Kiranis realized that his armor was being forcibly removed, piece by piece, from the waist down.

Kiranis renewed his struggle with redoubled strength as the intentions of his Nerazim attackers dawned on him. They meant to do the unthinkable, they meant to violate him, steal his honor-- but his thoughts halted as his head suffered another strong blow, wrenching his neck still pinned to the ground by the Nerazim above. Blinking as he recovered from the blow, Kiranis struggled to focus his eyes on the attacker that held him in place. His vision was fading now as a result of the pressure on his throat constricting essential nerves and arteries that carried the plentiful supply of blood required to keep a protoss mind operating at full capacity. Gradually, he was able to take in the form of the Nerazim, whose body was still with quiet focus as he watched his companion work to remove the final pieces of armor covering Kiranis’s legs. Purple-skinned and covered in armor that shone gold and green, the Nerazim was a vile sight to behold. The peaks of his crests were unnaturally jagged; deformed, and he wore a purple cloth hanging over his chin from beneath the eyes to cover his twisted, pointed face. Anger and revulsion swelled in Kiranis, mixing with a fresh wave of terror as he felt the Nerazim below dig claws into his exposed thighs, lifting his legs back towards Kiranis’s chest and into the air. 

Kiranis managed to throw a glance downwards through the wrists that secured his throat, and had his horrors confirmed. The second Nerazim’s organ, long and shining, had snaked past the purple, tattered loincloth he wore to reach, dripping and slick, towards Kiranis. The Nerazim was aware Kiranis’s strength was failing now due to the constriction at his throat, and he set the crooks of the Khalai’s knees to lay limp over his shoulders and leaned forward to pin his wrists to the ground. Kiranis felt his hearts flutter wildly against his chest. This was happening and he was helpless, he couldn’t even struggle now, and he was unprepared; his own organ unextended and allowing no room for another--

Kiranis couldn’t contain the scream that ripped through him as the Nerazim below forced his organ into his unprepared slit. He hadn’t even bothered to try. Impossibly loud and wracked with pain, Kiranis felt his spine curl with the force his deafening psionic cry. The muscles in his chest and abdomen tightened in an autonomic response, desperate to repel the intrusion that moved in hard, jagged thrusts inside his flesh. And the pain was truly unbelievable. It felt nothing at all like the sweet pain of a lover’s overzealous enthusiasm; instead this was a stabbing, ripping sensation that caused Kiranis to feel as though his whole body might tear in two. Kiranis’s own organ had been unextended when he had been entered, allowing no room inside his body to accommodate another. But the Nerazim had persisted without care, and now he was rooted firmly inside Kiranis, causing the Khalai’s soft, pliant organ to spill out onto his groin.

The chokehold of the first Nerazim continued to slowly sap his senses, but even as he lost feeling completely in his legs and arms, the pain between his thighs seemed to intensify. His body was tearing now, he could feel it; the warm blood sliding down along the creases of his thighs to pool on the hard, cold ground beneath him. His screams, having continued through the onslaught, became softer before fading into sharp sobs. He was defeated now, resigned to his fate and making no further effort to struggle. But the Nerazim below was ruthless, having moved his hands to slip beneath Kiranis’s armor and claw for purchase in his back. The leverage of the Nerazim’s claws embedded in his skin allowed him to drive forward with ruthless speed into Kiranis’s body while shredding the skin of his back into bloodied ribbons. 

Begging now, Kiranis slammed his thoughts into the mind of the Nerazim who held his throat with all the force his mind could manage. He begged him to tighten his grip, to take his life; there was no strength or honor left in his existence now. And Kiranis wailed in despair as the first emotion that the Nerazim allowed to pass into him was that of detached amusement. A dry, calculated amusement that incidentally informed Kiranis that this attack wasn’t a personal one; that somehow, he wasn’t the intended victim, though they knew very well who he was. The Khalai’s sparking blue eyes fell shut in confusion and misery. But even as he lost himself again to his emotions, a consuming, welcoming blackness began to close in on the edges his mind. It seemed that the Nerazim above him might show him a measure of mercy after all. Kiranis could feel the skillful grip on his throat tightening, ceding to his wishes and sparing him at long last from his shameful defeat. In the last thoughts that floated across his fading consciousness, Kiranis was relieved.

***

Kiranis was awoken after an untold amount of time by the dull agony radiating from between his thighs. He noted his organ was still partially extended and covered in blood, forced out of him by the swelling created by his trauma. A wave of sickness rolled over him at the unnatural sight as he propped himself up on a trembling elbow. He needed to survey the full extent of the damage. His head was pounding and his eyes were beginning to swell shut, and his movement caused the lacerations on his back to open up once again, sending a fresh trickle of blood to pool beneath his armor. Quickly overcome by a strong wave of dizziness brought on by his change in position, Kiranis let himself collapse back with a harsh sob. He had to get out, and soon. He couldn’t let anyone find him this way; no one could ever discover that he had let this happen.

Raising himself gingerly to a seated position, Kiranis fought against another wave of dizziness to survey his surroundings and don his discarded armor. His blood was everywhere, all over his body and covering the floor below, and it would need to be cleaned before he departed. Struggling shakily to his feet, Kiranis nearly stumbled into a nearby cart stocked with a number of polishing cloths, hastily grabbing a handful to begin his grim task. He was careful to wipe up every last drop from the polished stone floor; it was imperative he leave not a scrap of evidence behind that might betray his circumstances. Dashing the bloody cloths in a disposal bin and giving the space one last precautionary sweep, Kiranis hauled himself into the cockpit of the _Virathion_ , noting in the back of his mind that there would certainly be more blood to clean up later.

Pushing his scattered thoughts away and settling his mind as well as circumstance would allow, Kiranis laid his trembling hands on the crystal before him, shivering in relief as he was comforted by the familiar sound of his beloved ship awakening at his touch. He didn’t know how long he would be gone, or where he would go; only that he needed to allow his wounds ample time to heal before returning to his life on Shakuras. Kneeling forward from his seat, Kiranis reached beneath the control panel of the vessel to pull forth the craft’s tracking array; a neat series of tiny crystals strung together with psionically conductive fibers. Carelessly, Kiranis yanked hard on the delicate fibers and broke them asunder, sending the crystals scattering to the floor. He couldn’t afford to be followed, and this would guarantee his cover. With his goal now clearly set in his mind, Kiranis found that a focused indifference was settling onto his consciousness, replacing the overwhelming feelings of shame and anxiety that had gripped him from the moment he had awoken on the floor of the hangar. The new feeling helped center him - as long as he had a goal, a purpose, he could find a way to move forward.

Settling back into the seat of the cockpit once more and strapping himself in, Kiranis lifted the craft into the air and towards the hangar doors, triggered to open by the movement of the ship. A few seconds later, he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaldaris discovers the fate of his brother.

Kaldaris was was well aware of his brother’s tendency to linger at the hangar hours after his training, meticulously maintaining his ship. But day had slipped well into night and Kiranis had not yet arrived back to the quarters they shared. He was worried, and not without good cause - Kaldaris had felt a disturbance in his brother’s presence within the Khala that evening. It had been but a tiny ripple, explainable by something as minor as a few terse words exchanged between himself and another pilot, but he felt it was more than that. There was more to the story, he knew.

Kaldaris knelt in the center of the recessed seating area in the main chamber of their quarters in meditation, probing the Khala for any hint of his brother’s presence. And he was met now with intentional resistance, rather than the hazy and undefined confusion he had felt before. Kaldaris’s brow furrowed and his eyes snapped open, pulling himself from his meditative state. Something was wrong, Kiranis had never shut him out before.

In need of resolution to his worries, Kaldaris sprung lightly to his feet and donned his armor before vacating their quarters. He hurried the short distance to the central hangar that housed Kiranis’s ship, the _Virathion_ , that served as the central training hub for pilots both Khalai and Nerazim alike. As he approached, he felt a distinct heaviness in the air, an ominous potency he couldn’t quite explain settling gently on his mind. Kaldaris rushed through the hangar door that slid open soundlessly in response to his presence, noting with a fresh wave of fear that the Observer normally on patrol was nowhere in sight. 

 _Gone_. Kaldaris was struck by a wave of fear upon noticing the _Virathion_  was missing from its hangar. Kiranis was the only pilot permitted to operate the _Virathion_ , and Kaldaris needed no other proof to confirm his suspicions that something had gone awry for his beloved brother. There was not a single logical reason for his absence. The _Virathion_ was only operated during mission assignments or during training; neither of which was now the case. Kaldaris felt anxiety creeping in to grip him as he ran to stand in the middle of the hangar, scanning wildly in hopes he would find some clue, some sort of indication as to why Kiranis had departed.

Kaldaris shifted his gaze downward and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He could make out the faintest deep blue sheen coating the polished stone of the hangar floor. That color… Kaldaris was filled with dread at what his instincts immediately told him, and he quickly knelt to hover his cheek just above the ground. Just as he’d thought - his suspicions were confirmed as he took in the scent of the substance. There was no doubt that it was blood. Kiranis’s blood. Kaldaris reared back on his knees, dizzied by the shock of his realization. Someone, somewhere, had spilled his brother’s blood, here in the hangar that might as well have been his second home.

Kaldaris’s mind flew at a million kilometers an hour, sorting and scrapping through the endless list of possible circumstances that could have befallen Kiranis. He was still alive, he knew - his presence, though shrouded, yet remained in the Khala. Desperately, Kaldaris threw himself into the emotional link he shared with his brother, searching, seeking to grasp any tendril of present memory or emotion Kiranis let waft astray. He was shocked anew when his reach was swiftly rebuked by Kiranis. The response was cold and entirely devoid of the deep love and welcoming warmth they’d always shared. Kiranis had never felt this way to him before, and Kaldaris was filled with fear. His sky blue eyes burst with streams of psionic energy, and he keeled forward to collapse on the floor. He was screaming now into the Khala, pleading with his brother to let him in; to at least tell him _why_?

The agony of his unprecedented rejection gripped Kaldaris’s hearts like a vice. His crest dropped to rest against the floor; against the place where his brother’s blood had been spilled. He was caught by surprise as a building, stinging heat seeped upwards from the ground to penetrate his flesh, accompanied by disjointed visions flashing through his mind from within the Khala. This place, there had been an imprint made, and it was still fresh in Kiranis’s mind. And if he could dig just a bit more, scrape against the wall of his brother’s consciousness…

Kaldaris’s eyes flew wide open, horrified at the fragmented images that stabbed into his mind like green, searing blades. _The Nerazim_. They had done the unspeakable, and though his insight was brief, Kaldaris now understood the gist of what had taken place here in stark clarity. Overcome with revulsion, Kaldaris sprang back, allowing himself to hit the ground and crumple into a heap facing away from that place - the very place - that his brother had met with unimaginable calamity.  

The deafening mental scream Kaldaris unleashed carried his pain for kilometers in all directions. His bent body trembled with the full force of the battle rage he so carefully honed over more than a century of training, ignited by the immense gravity of what had passed just feet from where he now lay. These heretics… these _animals_ that inhabited this twisted planet, who took them in at their time of desperate need… now sought to prey on them, the Khalai, who had lost so much already. 

Kaldaris was brought back into himself suddenly as he heard the hangar door sweep open behind him, ushering in two sets of hurried footsteps. He did not have to look up to recognize it was his father, Urun, and tribesman Telbrus who had entered the hangar. Seeing Kaldaris as he was, both protoss stopped short, their alarm all but electrifying the air around them.

It was Urun who spoke first. “Kaldaris,” his commanding voice flowed forth with urgency and a touch of fear - he had heard Kaldaris’s scream. “Where is Kiranis?”

Kaldaris struggled to compose himself, careful to leave his emotions intact and perceptible while shrouding the sinister truth of what he knew. Instinctively, Kaldaris understood that Kiranis did not anyone to discover the truth of his situation, and he would honor the wishes of his brother without question. Kaldaris rose to his feet and steadied his voice. “Father. Something has happened here, yet Kiranis had closed himself to me.” Urun’s eyes widened in recognition of the wildly uncharacteristic nature of what Kaldaris had revealed. “I am unable to discern the circumstances of his departure.”

Urun’s brief flutter of panic was consumed by something stronger - rage. Rage at Kiranis’s unauthorized departure, at the mental wall he had placed between himself and his family, shrouding his circumstances and whereabouts completely. The insolence of his eldest son’s actions was inexcusable. “Telbrus, I want Kiranis intercepted - initiate the tracking protocol to trace the _Virathion_. Kaldaris, gather Kiranis’s squadron and prepare for a sweep. I want him found before morning.”

Swiveling quickly on his heel, Urun stormed out of the hangar, leaving Telbrus to the control tower and Kaldaris to round up the small fleet. Kaldaris didn’t bother letting Telbrus know his efforts would be fruitless - he knew Kiranis would have taken the necessary precautions to avoid being tracked. With an inward sigh, Kaldaris turned to trace the steps of his father, summoning his pilots within the Khala and preparing for the mission at hand.

***

As Kaldaris had predicted, their aimless sweep had proven to be in vain. Telbrus had discovered that the tracking array aboard the _Virathion_  had indeed been disabled, yet they had deployed the small fleet of ships for the sake of formality if nothing else. And after scouting various sections of the Koprulu sector over the span of a week, the search fleet had returned empty-handed.

Urun had been furious, but Kaldaris was finding it difficult to pay him any mind. Wherever Kiranis was now, he was quite far away indeed; his presence in the Khala reduced to a faint wisp. Kaldaris reached out to him time and again, whenever he had so much as a minute or two to spare. And now he received not so much as an acklowledgment in response. The agony it caused him was boundless.

Kiranis and Kaldaris had always been incredibly close. Kiranis, the elder, considered himself the protector of Kaldaris, though the younger had almost always been capable of looking after himself. Even as they grew apart in their training - Kiranis as a pilot and Kaldaris as a zealot - their bond remained strong, fostered by their decision to take up quarters together near the central aircraft hangar in Talematros. And each night, as often as they could, Kiranis and Kaldaris held to a tradition of communal evening meditation. They would kneel in mirrored symmetry and join hands, sometimes for hours at a time, drifting and diving within the Khala until their bodies begged for sleep. Then together they would lay and find rest, taking comfort in their platonic embrace.

But now, Kaldaris laid alone in the darkness of the chamber they shared, their bed feeling infinitely larger and painfully empty without Kiranis beside him. Kaldaris gazed blankly into the moonlight filtering between the gauze shades that shrouded one of the many long windows opening their chamber to the night sky. The half-moon’s light was soft, hanging large and low over the city skyline and caressing his skin with a stripe of glowing silver. He mused that perhaps at this moment, Kiranis was within his field of view, millions of kilometers away and floating in solitude among the stars. Gentle blue tendrils of psionic energy floated from his eyes to mingle with the pale white light resting upon his face. 

The sharp, indescribable agony Kaldaris had felt upon discovering his brother’s fate had since dulled to a constant and consuming despair. Sleep came rarely to him, and when it did, his dreams were filled with the images he had gleaned from Kiranis’s psionic imprint on the hangar floor. Meditation eluded him as well, as he found it impossible to quiet his mind sufficiently to slip beneath his consciousness into its centering reprieve. Instead, Kaldaris spent his nights reaching out in vain to touch Kiranis in the Khala, each touch met by the same stone cold facade he’d put up in the wake of the attack. It had been over two weeks now since Kiranis had departed, and each time the rebuke was the same. Kaldaris started to wonder if it was permanent - if somehow, his brother had passed to the eternal night, leaving this mental wall to forever mark his place in history.

Kaldaris shuddered. He seldom allowed his mind to wander to the possibility of his brother’s passing. And in his heart, he knew it wasn’t so. Someday, they would meet again, and Kaldaris could now only beg fate that he would be able to help his brother heal.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiranis arrives home at last.

Kiranis waited for cover of night to guide the _Virathion_ back to the surface of Shakuras. He knew it would be optimal to dock at a hangar just outside Talematros city limits rather the main hangar close to the city’s center, so he scanned the two stationed on the east and west sides of the city. Both full.

Kiranis allowed a soft sigh to escape his mind. He had known he would be hunted after his departure. But would they still seek him now? He could only hope the rage he’d felt from Urun in the Khala had died down, and that the Observers patrolling the city hadn’t been issued special directives to alert the rest of the Fleet to his presence.

It seemed luck was with Kiranis as he silently guided the ship to the central hangar, throwing out a quick scan to confirm the dock normally reserved for the _Virathion_  had remained empty in his absence. The scan confirmed his suspicion, and he directed the thrusters of his Phoenix downward to hover above the ground before gliding almost silently into the hangar doors that parted automatically to grant him admittance. If the Observers had made any note of his arrival, they made no indication. They stayed to their paths without a hitch, gliding soundlessly through the air along their programmed perimeter of the building.

It wasn’t until he had landed safely in the hangar that Kiranis felt the tight flutter of anxiety creeping into his chest, threatening to overwhelm him and render him immobile and unable to speak. In the days immediately following the attack, Kiranis had spent almost every minute after his jump in a frozen and quaking state of shock. It had almost been as if his mind and body had divorced; his mind retreating into the safe confines of his deep, walled-off corner of the Khala while his body subjected itself to stasis. He spend those days huddled tightly on the floor, knees wrapped tightly against his chest, body still as death but for a constant tremor that thrummed through his veins. Perhaps those days had been the best, he mused, sitting in silence for a moment once safely inside the hangar.

Kiranis did his best to shake off the emotions building ominously at the edges of his conscious. He was frightened by the loss of control over his mind that his emotions dictated; capable as they were of catching him off-guard at a moment’s notice. Indeed he’d never experienced anything like it before, though he was well aware of the implications. The inextricable link he shared with what amassed to nearly the entirety of his species in one united emotional presence; their sacred Khala, allowed him a deep understanding of the infinite array of emotions experienced by his kind. And though he had an objective understanding of the reasoning behind his fits, any semblance of control over himself in that state eluded him entirely.

And he could sense it now, the anxiety blossoming against his will. It crept outwards from his chest, seizing control of his limbs before slipping upwards into his mind, locking down his body in a fit of terror. But he couldn’t allow that to happen; not now. In one fluid movement, Kiranis released his restraints, popped out of the cockpit and dashed to the hangar doors, only pausing to catch his breath when he heard them glide smoothly shut behind him. Kiranis shook his head. Of course he was out of breath - he had barely moved a muscle during what nearly amounted to three weeks’ time on his ship. For any other protoss, exercise was performed multiple times a day, consisting of brief bursts of various acrobatics - just enough to get hearts pumping and muscles refreshed and renewed.

But his breathlessness had been more than that. His hearts had fluttered wildly, an autonomic reaction to being in that place again, in that very spot where this had all started. Kiranis shook his head hard, nerve cords tossing and whipping behind him. He needed to focus, now more than ever. Now was the beginning of the singular moment, the anticipation of it alone had been what kept Kiranis from diving from the brink of his sanity to join as one with the stars. Nonetheless, his trepidation was mounting, the familiar feeling ebbing at the edges of his focus he worked so hard now to cultivate. He needed to center himself, be ready for this moment, long-awaited not only by himself but another as well - Kaldaris.

Shutting out his younger brother had been an agonizing feat in itself, and Kaldaris had reached out several times each day. Kaldaris had been wild and desperate at first, lashing out in angry, miserable terror. And though the undercurrent of fear always remained, his emotions had faded over time to guilt and a cold, devastating loneliness that Kiranis had felt most keenly of all. Even though the nights, Kaldaris’s cries had been nearly constant. He wasn’t sleeping; how could he be? They’d spent most nights since Kaldaris’s birth entangled a loving embrace. Even now he could feel Kaldaris’s psionic call through the dank night air, faint as he battled the overwhelming need to sleep.

Steeling himself for Kaldaris’s sake, Kiranis allowed his legs to move independently of his mind, carrying him over the familiar and well-worn path between the hangar and the quarters they shared. Kiranis knew the burning, crazed longing that Kaldaris felt during all hours of the day and night; knew that he wanted nothing more than to have Kiranis home and wrapped in his arms once more. But that knowledge provided him little comfort now against the terror welling up in his hearts; a million inexplicable fears flying through his mind. What would Kaldaris think of him, seeing him as a shadow of the proud High Templar he’d once been? He knew the zealot had somehow discerned what had take place in the hangar that day; he had seen it in his fitful dreams. Kiranis shrugged sharply in an effort to shake the anxiety biting at his haunches. It didn’t matter. Only one thing mattered now - to return to Kaldaris, to comfort him and hold him as he always had.

Kiranis slowed his gait as he approached the building that contained the suite they shared. His legs felt numb, seeming to move of their own volition as he stepped onto the levitation platform that spirited him to the top floor. Almost blindly, Kiranis stepped from the platform as it reached its destination and moved silently down the corridor, letting his toes lift to skim above the floor in resigned levitation. His hearts skipped a beat as the door drew within view. The sight of the door to the flat they shared sent a pang of trepidation tingling down his spine. All of his longing and yearning for his brothers embrace that he had shoved to the side before came crashing to the forefront of his mind, ripping at him like a great pair of hydralisk jaws and sundering him under the full force of his guilt and regret. Barely noticing the blue ribbons of psionic energy radiating from his eyes, Kiranis stepped forward, triggering the door to their quarters to rise and allowing him inside. Stepping forward on trembling legs, he could feel Kaldaris’s presence, subtle and constant from the antechamber across the main room, his sleep tainted by a fit of nightmares.

Sighing softly, Kiranis felt his shoulders drop under the weight of his dull, bloodstained armor. He was home. Safe. A shiver of eager anticipation floated into his consciousness - Kaldaris lay only feet away from him now, wrapped in soft blankets upon the bed they shared. Kaldaris let his eyes fall shut as he abandoned himself to his overwhelming and conflicting emotions of fear and joy, relief and deep sadness that consumed him now. Unsure of how to rouse Kaldaris, Kiranis dropped his head and let his words form themselves from the quavering torrent of emotion that possessed him.

_Please…_

***

The hangar air was laced heavily with a dark, swirling mist that clouded Kaldaris’s vision as he gazed down from above. Through the shadows, his eyes somehow able to focus on the two cloaked Nerazim slipping deftly beneath the row of gleaming golden Phoenixes aligned in staunch silence within the vast space that housed them. The Nerazim moved swiftly, fast approaching a familiar shape. The silhouette of the _Virathion_ , its custom deep blue accents seeming to suck in the darkness around it, and Kiranis below its brilliant translucent blue wing, deep in concentration. Kaldaris could feel the air inside the hangar become saturated with danger, though Kiranis seemed oblivious. Absorbed in his task, the pilot remained ignorant to the ominous threat lurking in the shadows. Until it was too late.

Kaldaris cried out a warning, but Kiranis never heard him. Kaldaris realized with horror that his words never escaped his own mind, blocked by some cold and immovable barrier between them. And he flinched violently at the sight that greeted him next. The Nerazim were on Kiranis now, seizing him and choking him as they worked silently to remove his armor. Kiranis was crying, pleading with the Nerazim as he bucked wildly against the strong hands pinning him in place. Drowning now in indescribable dread, Kaldaris knew what the Nerazim intended to do. He cried out again, louder still, but his calls yet went unheard. He felt tears break free in bright streams of energy from his eyes as he watched the Nerazim that held Kiranis’s legs move himself forward as the last of Kiranis’s armor was discarded; the creature’s sickening hunger slicing through the air like a lance. His fate clear, Kiranis’s pleas grew ragged and desperate. _Please, please…_

_Please._

Kaldaris’s eyes flew open. _Here._ Kiranis was here, his presence looming in the Khala like a storm cloud clapping loud and low overhead. Overcome instantly with a mad desperation, Kaldaris crashed out of bed and flew out through their bedroom door. But he quickly skidded to a halt at the sight that greeted him.

Kiranis floated inches above the ground in the fashion of the High Templar, his head tucked almost to his chest. His slack form was silhouetted gracefully in silver moonlight that glinted off his helm, making him appear ethereal in his composed silence. Kiranis was weak, his psionics barely strong enough to keep him aloft in the air. His muscles too had atrophied since he’d last seen him, and it was clear he had made no effort at all to care for himself during his self-imposed exile. Kaldaris’s focus shifted hesitantly to the drops and streaks of deep blue blood staining his brother’s armor and body. Kaldaris slumped forward to rest his hands on his knees against the wave of sickness that washed over him at the sight of the bloody streaks that snaked down Kiranis’s thighs before pooling and disappearing beneath the golden armor that adorned his thighs.

“Kira…” Kaldaris’s mental voice was barely a whisper, gingerly reaching to brush his brother’s mind with the pet name Kaldaris alone could use. Brushing his hesitation to the side, Kaldaris stepped lightly forward and took Kiranis’s trembling hands in his own, sending a gentle current of psionic energy to center the chaotic thoughts he could feel thrumming beneath Kiranis’s motionless exterior. Raising his eyes just slightly to meet those of his brother, Kaldaris whispered sweetly, “come.”

The directive was soft, and Kiranis replied wordlessly by letting his feet sink to the ground. With a small smile reflected in the wrinkling at the corners of his eyes, Kaldaris turned to lead them slowly to their bedroom. Kiranis followed without a word. Once inside, Kaldaris moved to stand behind Kiranis. Hands reaching forward with gentle intention, Kaldaris interlaced their fingers as he nestled his face into the space between Kiranis’s neck and pauldron. Melting into the familiar warmth and scent, Kaldaris sighed when he felt the tension relax slightly in his brother’s shoulders. “Kira…” came his soft, multi-tonal whisper once more, lapping warmly against the hardened edges of Kiranis’s spent mind. “I love you.”

Those three words triggered a gentle release of tension that had been knotted firmly in Kiranis’s shoulders. With every drop of love and adoration he could muster, Kaldaris drew forth a swirl of undulating, vibrating psionics from his mind which he released through his crest and into the crook where Kiranis’s chin met his neck. “Breathe, my brother.” The words were heartfelt and soothing, gently accenting the soft layer of comfort Kaldaris projected forth to envelope Kiranis entirely. Kaldaris felt his brother heave forward with a long whisper of a sigh. He could relax now, after so long; relax into the beautiful, unbreakable love of his brother’s welcoming arms. The knowledge beckoned forth tears from Kiranis’s eyes, which he let fall shut as he dropped his chin once more.

After a long moment of somber silence, Kiranis spoke at last. “Will you lay with me?” There was hesitation in Kiranis’s voice, as if he were nervous his request would be denied. But Kaldaris responded by pressing his face firmly into Kiranis’s neck in a gesture of undeniable affirmation. Kaldaris’s hands moved upwards ever so gently to trail against his brother’s sides; reaching, questioning. He allowed his fingers to linger there for a moment, ensuring Kiranis’s consenting awareness of the touch before moving to deftly unfasten the clasps holding his bloodied cuirass in place. Kiranis jumped at the movement, but forced himself to relax, consciously reassuring himself that there was no ill intent in his brother’s actions. Kaldaris sensed his brother’s flash of fear and extended a mental blanket of assurance over Kiranis to lie in place of the armor he removed slowly now, piece by piece.

Once he’d removed the last of Kiranis’s armor, Kaldaris led his brother by the hand to their bed. He laid back, his arms open in a welcoming invitation for Kiranis to join him. Dropping his gaze almost shyly, Kiranis moved forward to lower himself in a seat on the edge of the bed. He felt it strange that Kaldaris would want to embrace him after his body had been so violently defiled, even now as he remained covered in the lingering remnants of his attack. It was only when he felt Kaldaris’s own yearning brushing against his consciousness that he finally gave in and laid back, curling on his side inwards against Kaldaris and allowing his head to rest on his brother’s shoulder. Kaldaris was abruptly run through by emotion at the contact, unable to restrain a sob as he turned to face Kiranis and folded his arms around him, drawing him in closer in a protective embrace.

“Kira… stay with me.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiranis discovers his costly salvation.

_Here?_

The damp mist suspended in the cool night air betrayed only the occasional thrumming whir of carrier crafts spiriting past overhead. Curiously, not a scant hint of sound escaped the door before him as Kiranis stood in the shadows at the base of the narrow staircase that dropped sharply from the street above. Shutting his eyes, Kiranis recalled the series of colored glyphs that had been pressed into his mind only hours before. _Salvation_ , the voice had whispered. _Comfort_. And in spite of the sinking feeling in his gut, the nagging sensation that somehow those words would haunt him, he had still come running here on legs that seemed to act on a will of their own.

The door swept swiftly upwards at the moment he completed the sequence of glyphs, the fronds of his robes fluttering upon the air that stirred in its wake. Her voice was here again, closer than ever - the same voice that had beckoned him here with sweet, cryptic promises. Stricken with nervous anticipation, Kiranis rushed forward and through the door that slammed immediately shut behind him, nearly catching the tails of his robe in its jaws. This was _Aeon_ , and here, he was home.

Awestruck as he scanned his surroundings, Kiranis paused to soak in every last detail of the vast chamber that yawned open from the tiny passageway through which he’d entered. It was the sound that struck him first: almost overwhelmingly loud, the sonorous thumping music coursed psionically through the air to wrap and tighten around his physical body. His own psionics were stimulated by the sound, lifting him from his feet to hover inches above the floor in the manner he neglected more often than not despite his rank as High Templar. Allowing his muscles to relax as he floated blissfully within his blanket of sound, Kiranis let his eyes flit across the room. The chamber was vast, sweeping outwards and back before breaking off into a series of vaulted, curtained highways. The ceiling was high and arched and nearly entirely shrouded in a mist, sensual and intoxicating, that floated above the packed crowd of protoss, Khalai and Nerazim alike, undulating in time with the music that embraced them all as one. The mist swirled and danced above them, shimmering in the light of the soft, impossibly deep blue crystals of all shapes and sizes hovering in the air above the crowd, and he watched curiously as it drifted downwards, almost intentionally, to brush against his skin and penetrate his flesh.

Kiranis shuddered as he was overcome by a warm, creeping ecstasy that filled him and rendered him nearly motionless. Lost in a sudden euphoria, Kiranis allowed his eyes to fall shut and his head to tip back, surrendering to the sweet relief that brushed away every bit of tension and fear lingering in his exhausted mind. He felt a seductive smile brush against his consciousness, bolstering his joy and welcoming him to bask in his relief. Her voice; the voice that led him here, was calling to him again.

_Anjunas._

Her name rolled across his mind like a warm, perfumed breeze rolling upwards and away from the crashing waves of the ocean. Dark but gentle; dangerous but kind, she beckoned him forward, soundlessly parting the sea of gyrating bodies to allow him to pass unhindered towards her sanctuary.

Soft, sweeping gossamer curtains, purple and scattered with infinite tiny luminescent turquoise points, dragged sweetly at the points of his crest as he reached his destination at the rear of the room, his breath stolen by the splendor he now beheld. The antechamber Kiranis she’d drawn him to was without a doubt the most beautifully haunting place he’d ever seen. The dark marble floor, covered almost completely in black satin and aubergine velveteen cushions from wall to wall, swept seamlessly upwards to join with glistening obsidian walls bedecked by ornate columns and illuminated by countless purple crystals hanging by golden threads from the high vaulted ceiling above. And centered the rear of the room upon a wide cushioned dias sat his seductress: the Nerazim named Anjunas.

Seated in a perfectly postured and motionless cross-legged perch upon a black cushion of velvet, the lithe Nerazim appeared to be lost deep in the folds of meditation. But Kiranis knew her placid manner betrayed her. She held him in view of her mind’s third eye, appraising and stroking his mind as if she held his entire existence within her slim, deft fingers adorned with brilliant colored gems set in countless silver and ebony rings.

If he hadn’t been rendered comatose with a mixture of terror and awe in that moment, Kiranis would have been captivated by her beauty. Her skin was a decadent shade of purple, dark even by Nerazim standards, smooth and seamless and seeming to emanate a soft silver glow, almost shining where it hugged the sharp curves of her crests that fanned out in craggy points like a crown above her narrow face. Her eyes, blinking slowly open as she sensed Kiranis’s paralyzed presence, glittered sensually beneath her angular brow, appearing almost as white sparks touched by the barest shade of verdant green. Situated above her brow was a half-moon sliver of silver curving to fit her brow as if it had been made for her, accented by a single radiant green gem. Her armor was sparse, consisting of two winged silver epaulets that curved upwards and out from her otherwise bare, muscled shoulders. She wore a shining tapered collar about her neck to which her garment was attached by a single narrow fastening at the center, just below the sharp dip at the base of her throat. From there the phosphorescent silken garment, dark and rich blue in color and scattered with tiny white gems that danced in the low light of the chamber swept downwards and outwards, revealing a generous amount of skin beneath her arms to flaunt her taut, muscular form. The cloth was cinched inwards at her waist by a shining silver belt balanced delicately upon her hips, curving inwards to an elongated point between her thighs. From the waist down she was covered only by the narrow swaths of her garment that extended downwards in the front and back, leaving strong, veined thighs exposed to the sweetly scented air around them.

 _Kiranis._ Her mental voice ghosted against his consciousness, somehow relaxing him and renewing his fear at once. This woman was Nerazim, kindred of those who had stolen away his honor, his sanity… And there was something about her, something dangerous that flooded his senses with the nagging urge to retreat, to get out now while he still had the chance…

But Kiranis stayed, fixed in place beneath Anjunas’s spell. His gaze dropped to her lap, her small, angular hands laid delicately one within the other, with a tiny swirling purple orb floating a scant inch above her palm. Her bright eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side in a warm smile as she noted Kiranis’s drifting focus. _Come._

Anjunas beckoned him now with the full volume of her mental voice, husky and dulcet and laced with hints of the pleasures that awaited him. Kiranis floated forward at her command, his toes brushing lightly against the pillows scattered across the floor. His eyes were fixated on the orb she held, infinite hues of violet and amethyst circling slowly within. Kiranis stopped before the dias that held his temptress, his wide eyes betraying his conflicting emotions. He hadn’t been this close to one of the Nerazim since his attack, and he was now close enough to feel the gentle heat radiating from her body, making his skin crawl and his chest heave as a wave of nausea crashed over him.

Anjunas snaked her free hand forward without warning, yanking Kiranis closer by the golden arch rising from his cuirass over his shoulder. She lifted the purple orb in the other and crushed it gently against the side of Kiranis’s neck. Swept immediately from reality as the drug took hold, Kiranis’s eyes rolled back and his body collapsed to the floor before her. With a smile, Anjunas sprang lightly upwards to land in a graceful crouch beside Kiranis’s limp form. He was gone.

***

It had always seemed to Anjunas that each protoss experienced his first tangle with terrazine in same way. A powerful and potent drug, each of her acolytes inevitably found himself overwhelmed by its effects, rendered immobile and all but unconscious in a crumpled heap on the floor. Perfect for her purposes. Lifting herself to stand, Anjunas called out to her companions that stood shrouded in shadows around the perimeter of the room. With a wave of her hand, her harem of men and women, Khalai and Nerazim alike let their silken robes drop to the floor where they stood before approaching the disoriented pilot lying inert on the floor. Moving as one, Anjunas’ companions drew into a circle around Kiranis, tugging and pulling at the fastenings of his armor and casting each piece aimlessly aside.

Kiranis moaned softly, his voice muffled by the drug coursing through his veins. With great effort he willed himself to resist the hands grabbing and coaxing his body into arousal, but managed only to turn his head to the side while arching his back weakly in protest. An Aiur protoss, Khalai caste by the look of him, moved forward to push Kiranis’s pliant thighs open and back, draping his naked body heavily over the listless Templar beneath him. Sensations of hands grasping and stroking his body blurred and mingled together as one, dancing in delicious, terrifying chaos within Kiranis’s mind. He only barely noticed when his body was breached at last, the Khalai above him lazily pressing his organ into the slick slit that spasmed and pulsed with autonomous desperation to pull him deeper. A shivering gasp coursed through Kiranis as the Khalai acquiesced, pushing his organ firmly forward to disappear completely between his stretched and dripping folds.

With a sigh of satisfaction, Anjunas watched as the writhing, groping mass of bodies enveloped her newcomer almost completely. A shiver of arousal coursed down her spine at the sight of the Khalai male buried hilt-deep between Kiranis’s splayed and trembling legs, now jerking languidly in time with firm, steady thrusts. Sinking herself down to her knees, Anjunas lifted Kiranis’s limp hand and brushed her raiment aside, allowing her head to tilt back in an impassioned moan as she pressed the pads of his fingers to slide along the length of her soaked slit. With her free hand, Anjunas reached down to cradle the side of Kiranis’s face as she forced a clawed finger upwards into her folds. She cried out, loudly and unashamed as he penetrated her, the claw within scratching and tearing her in agonizing, ecstatic bliss. Forcing him deeper still, Anjunas allowed her mind to wander, gleefully reminiscing on the horrific fate Kiranis had suffered only weeks before. She imagined herself under their hands, choking and screaming as Kiranis had done, helpless to stop their brutal onslaught…

Crying out in rapturous laughter, Anjunas shivered and collapsed back, arms sprawled at her sides as she rode out the lingering shivers of her release. She would have fun with her toy Templar. And she knew he would be back for more.


End file.
